Unreal
by Steph5
Summary: After learning of Gee’s death, two detectives current and former turn to each other in an unexpected way.
1. Chapter 1

Unreal

By Steph first time posting Homicide fic here. If the first chapter looks familiar to anyone, it's because I posted a rough draft of it several years ago on 11 cents. I reread it recently, and decided to rewrite it and add another part.

Rating: I don't think it's at the NC-17 level. Probably R. Language and smut.

Timeline: During and post the Homicide Movie.

Summary: After learning of Gee's death, two detectives (current and former) turn to each other in an unexpected way.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. I also do not ship the two characters, but believe there is enough feeling between them where it could happen.

There was some part of him that couldn't believe that he was back in the squadroom again. After all, the last time Mike was here, for the dead baby case, it was not the most pleasant experience. He could have lived without seeing the forced friendliness of Lewis, the disgust of many of the other detectives, the expression of both anger and fear in Stivers' eyes. But he didn't need any of them. He was actually doing fine by himself. He enjoyed his PI work, calling all the shots. He had family, he had friends. He didn't need  
to be back.

He was there because Gee was shot. His former lieutenant who had been nice to him in spite of everything. Without thinking, he knew he had to help. The first thing that he noticed was that he wasn't the only one who had that bright idea. It was like some twisted family reunion. There was Howard and Pembleton...weird. No one even gave him any dirty looks or anything. He even got a quick, fleeting smile from Lewis, which he considered a small victory. After all, there was nothing like a tragedy to bring people together. He gave Lewis a quick smile back.

And like a shot the detectives were off doing what they do best-investigating, working the shooting. Even the ones who were no longer detectives officially were investigating, but he felt out of it. He had no desire to work the streets. He was dying to look at the video of the shooting though. As a PI, he looked at videos and pictures a lot. It is how he found out things like cheating spouses. Videos were now his forte.

He went down to check out the video and much to his dismay Stivers was down there scrutinizing the video. She didn't hear him come in so he had the advantage. Unlike Lewis, he was still angry at her. He understood why Lewis did the things that he did. He used violence. Violence he understood, tattling he didn't. Covering for your partner he understood, telling on a friend is something completely different.

He and Stivers were friends before. Well maybe not friends, but at least acquaintances. They worked a case together when he was in arson and she was in narcotics. They got along so well that they went out to dinner one night. It was him and Annie and Terri and her boyfriend at the time. He remembered that her boyfriend was a major ass-he kept checking out every woman who passed by, all in front of his girlfriend. Mike knew he was never in the running for the Best Husband or Boyfriend award, but even he was appalled by this guy's blatant leering.

The next day he actually said to her, "You know that you could do so much better then that guy. He doesn't deserve you."

She smiled at him then, one of the saddest smiles that he had ever seen in his life and said "That's nice to hear, Sir Michael."

They didn't really talk after that. He wondered if the dinner and his statement had embarrassed her. He didn't even see her again until the Mahoney fiasco began. Lewis tried to introduce them and Mike (still reeling from the arson allegations and happy to see a friendly face he could tell his story to) was about to ask her if she wanted to go out to dinner sometime. He and Annie had divorced and he didn't think that the ass was still in the picture so who knew.

But he got his answer before he had even asked his question. He got the answer when he saw the way she was looking at his partner and the way his partner was looking back. His very newly married partner! Jealous? He was a little, but it wasn't that big of deal.

Between the bribery investigation and his new up-and-down relationship with Cox, he didn't focus too much on it. When Mahoney was just beginning, he was amused by Lewis and Stivers and their interactions. With the aftermath of Mahoney's shooting, he just wanted Stivers as far away from him as possible. Hard to do when she was transferred to homicide.

She still hadn't noticed him so he said in his jolliest tone. "Like the hair, Stivers. Looks good long."

When she saw him, she sort of backed away like he was going to attack her or something. It was kind of funny so he laughed. "Don't you know you're supposed to say thank you when you're complimented?"

She took a deep breath and finally found her voice. "Thank you."

She kept backing away and he laughed again. "Christ, Stivers, I'm not going to hurt you."

His words seemed to have flicked a switch and she said angrily, "Well, how am I supposed to know? You tried to hurt me last time."

He didn't think that that that was true. He had grabbed her to make a point, to  
get her to listen to him, not to hurt her. Some of his anger faded as he realized that she thought he was really going to hurt her. That was too much for him to think about so he wanted to break the ice to cool things down a little. His nervousness and what was left  
of the anger made what he wanted to be funny, extremely insulting. "Why'd you change your hair? Think Meldrick might start paying attention to you again?"

It was mean and he knew it. Despite his anger toward her, he got absolutely no satisfaction at the look of incredible pain on her face. It only made him wish that he hadn't said anything.

"What do you want me to say, Mike?" she asked, her voice steely cool. "That I am sorry? Will you stop doing this to me, Mike if I do? Well then, I am sorry. I am sorry that I ever got involved in the whole damned thing and I'm sorry that I worried enough about the three of us enough to say something. I didn't do it to get you or Lewis in trouble...I did it to help us. I went and told Gee the shootup was all my fault. I didn't mention either of you to him."

She couldn't be that stupid, could she? "You didn't have to. You think Gee would believe that _you_ were the one to pull the trigger? Just opening your mouth was enough to implicate all of us."

"Shouldn't it mean something to you that I wanted to take all the blame for myself? No, forget it, Mike. I don't want to argue about it anymore. Just..."she stopped and said softly, practically whispering. "leave me alone. Please."

The pitiful tone in her voice and the plaintive request was what may have shocked the meanness out of him. He began to feel a little guilty so he decided, for the time being, to switch subjects. "Whatever happened to that jerk you were seeing? That one who went out to dinner with us that one time."

She said in a flat tone. "Oh, him. He left me for some woman he worked with."

"He didn't deserve you." It was a last-ditch attempt to make up for him bullying her (which is what he had been doing), clumsy, but good-intentioned. His words only seemed to hurt her more though.

"It doesn't matter. I just keep going after the same kind of guy." Her voice isn't flat anymore. Now it is just sad, painful.

As soon as she said that and he fully understood the implication (that she was talking just as much about Meldrick as she was about her ex), something weird happened. His anger melted into something else and it shocked him.

Just watching her there looking so sad for a second, he almost wanted to hold her.  
It was the same feeling he had when he saw her again with Lewis. This feeling was odd and inappropriate but it was also extremely strong and he knew that he should probably leave before he made a total fool of himself.

"I'll leave you alone, Terri," he said. "Let you get back to work."

"Mike," she said lightly touching his arm. "I know you hate me. Meldrick does too to some extent. But I am sorry."

Touching his arm was not a good idea. He swallowed and backed toward the door. "I know you are, Terri. I'll see you around."

The next time that he saw her was when they were all at the bar celebrating Gee. She was behind the bar, standing near Lewis, but she might as well have been alone. Lewis barely acknowledged her. He wondered if she still had feelings for Lewis.

He wondered if she would like to go out to dinner sometime.

They were all feeling happy and then along came Death...well actually Brodie. And everything changed. Gee was dead. He couldn't believe it and yet there was no reason to doubt it. He felt so sad but he also felt out of place, like he shouldn't be there. He watched people's reactions because he didn't really have one of his own yet. Everyone was sad and crying and he just knew he needed to get out of there as soon as possible. Apparently he was not the only one who felt this way because he saw Terri slip out the back way and like an idiot he followed her.

She was walking fast and some stupid part of him wondered briefly if he could catch up with her. He did after a few seconds and grabbed her arm. Not like before, gently this time.

"What?" she asked him. Her eyes were still dry and she looked annoyed. "What do you want, Mike?"

"I want to make sure you get home okay," he said. It was the first thing that popped out of his mouth and he wondered what her reaction was going to be.

She shrugged. She didn't want to argue. He understood it. So he followed her home and walked her to her apartment.

"I'll be okay," she said to him. She still hadn't cried yet. It hadn't hit her yet the way it hadn't hit him. "You can go home now."

But he didn't. He kissed her instead. He couldn't explain it. There were so many things wrong with this situation. He knew this, but as soon as she kissed him back he forgot every reason.

The whole thing was very unreal. They stumbled into her apartment, kissing until she broke away and led him into her bedroom.

He knew it was unreal, knew it while he was kissing a trail down her neck, as he was trying unsuccessfully to unbutton her blouse. She had more success in unzipping his pants and pulling them down, and in celebration, she pulled his head down and kissed him again, before pulling away and taking his shirt off. He closed his eyes at the sensations of her lips and hands on his chest.

The second time he tried, he was successful in getting her shirt off and he let his hand skim her stomach, her back, her hips, listening to the change in her breathing. He stepped out of his pants, his boxers, and gentleman that he was, helped her out of her remaining clothes as well.

Even though he had been able to silence the word "unreal" (for it had become a refrain in his head) for the last few frenzied minutes, it hit him again, as he positioned himself above her on the bed, and she looked up at him with huge, anxious eyes.

He was about to have sex with Terri Fucking Stivers. It didn't get any more unreal than that.

He kissed her again, licking at her neck, kissing and nibbling his way down to her bellybutton and making his way back up to her lips.

"Mike," she moaned. "Please."

That was all he needed to hear. Again, the word "unreal" hovered in and out of his consciousness, but what they were doing right now, which ended with them calling each other's name, was enough to silence it completely.

They were silent afterward. He wondered if she was in shock. He wondered if he was in shock. He should say something though.

"I meant what I said before," he said. "I do like your hair."

She laughed, her laugh abruptly ending in a sob. "I can't believe it. About Gee."

It was hitting them both now. He held her as she cried, feeling so incredibly sad. For Gee, for her, for himself, even for all his ex-coworkers.

It wasn't unreal now. Quite the opposite.

He turned off her small bedside lamp. Her crying had slowed to an occasional sniffle. He pulled her closer to him.

"I'm glad you're here," she said hoarsely.

"Me too," he said, meaning it. He closed his eyes and soon they were both asleep.


	2. morning

-1Part 2

He was sleeping pretty heavily, dreaming of things he would never be able to remember in the light of day. He was sleeping so heavily that it took a few seconds of shaking before he opened his eyes.

He instinctively looked at the clock that was on his nightstand, before remembering that he wasn't in his bedroom. He wasn't alone either - hence the shaking.

He yawned and turned to see Terri staring at him. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Six," she said. "I shouldn't have woken you up, but I couldn't sleep." She sounded apologetic.

He yawned again. "S'okay. Do you want to talk?" That was a new line for him, but he figured he would try it.

"No," she whispered. She sat up and placed both hands on his chest.

"Terri…" he began, but he stopped as she began to kiss his neck, moving down to his chest, before looking up. Stopped speaking, stopped breathing, stopped everything.

"Is this okay?" she asked. Before he could answer, she slid down his boxer shorts and took him into her hand.

She's numb, he told himself as she moved her hand gently over him causing him to groan. She's numb and you're numb and this probably wasn't the smartest thing for either of them… no probably about it…it definitely wasn't smart, but he certainly wasn't going to stop her. Especially now as she positioned herself above him.

Her hair, in its new longer style, hung in her face, partially covering her eyes as she balanced, looking down at him. As he tenderly moved her hair out of her face so he could look at her, he remembered months ago, when he grabbed her angrily at the courthouse steps. As their movements quickened and he held her tighter against him with one hand and began to touch her gently with the other, he remembered her angry command: "Don't ever touch me again." If the sounds she was currently making were any indication, she certainly didn't mind him touching her now.

He didn't think much more of the oddness of the situation (the word unreal was nowhere to be found), he just let his mind go blank and focused only on her and what they were doing. Didn't think at all while she moaned his name one last time, before slumping sated against him. Didn't think at all when he came with a groan. Didn't think at all until he noticed that while he was in his post-coital bliss, she was crying again.

"You know," he said sleepily. "If you're going to do that every time we have sex, I'm really going to start doubting my abilities."

She didn't even smile. "I don't know why I did that. I couldn't sleep…I kept thinking about Gee. And I was just lying here depressed and I wanted to do something where I wouldn't have to think."

He could sympathize with that, he really could. In his case, however he usually used alcohol. "So you're just using me then?"

She didn't pick up on the teasing tone in his voice. "I guess I am. We can add it to the list of things I've done wrong. And last night was wrong."

"I really don't think we're the first people to ever have sex after hearing bad news," he said practically. "And it wasn't really wrong…"

"It was wrong," she said. "Because you hate me."

"No I don't."

"You did."

He couldn't dispute that. Not really. So he sat up and put on his boxer shorts.

"I'm really sorry, Mike." She had stopped crying; now she just looked like someone had run over her puppy.

"Seriously, Stivers, don't ever apologize for what you just did. It was pretty fantastic." He would keep the image of her straddling him, eyes closed in concentration, whimpering his name, in his mind for a long time. "Last night wasn't too shabby either."

His sincere compliment didn't even seem to register with her. "No," she said. "Not for that. I'm apologizing for everything I've done." She frowned and with emphasis said, "Everything."

"Everything?"

"For tattling, for getting you into trouble, for worrying more about myself than about you." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "For the whole last year."

He didn't say anything so she continued. "You were right about me. When I saw you and you called me a bitch, you were right."

"That wasn't one of my shining moments," he admitted.

"And now what? I'm going to have sex with you until you forgive me? Or every time I have a sad thought about Gee?"

"I could think of worse things," he said.

She shook her head and then winced. "My head is killing me. I need to make some coffee. Do you want any?"

"Sure." He started to get up when she patted his arm. "I'll bring you some. I won't be too long."

Alone in her small bedroom, he lay back down. His thoughts turned to Gee. All in all, he thought again, Gee had been good to him. Even with all the trouble. He would definitely miss him. And he would go to the funeral - even if he would have to deal with former co-workers who still weren't too keen on him.

"Hey," she said coming back into the bedroom, two mugs in her hand, "I have no idea how you like your coffee…I left it black, but I can go back and add something to it…"

"No, this is fine," he said, grabbing one of the mugs from her. "Thank you."

"I'm debating about turning on the news," she said, getting back into bed. "I want to know what they'll say, but…"

"You're worried they'll somehow get things wrong."

"Exactly," she said. "So I never really asked you. How's life as a PI?"

He wondered about the abrupt change of subject and her sudden artificially cheerful voice, but played along. "It's good. I like it."

"Good," she said. "I'm glad to hear it." She sipped the coffee. "Can I tell you something, Mike?" Her voice didn't sound cheerful anymore.

"Sure."

"It's about what we all went through…"

He didn't respond.

"I think I…we all screwed up how we handled things. Let it get too far. But these last two years, I felt guilty all the time - about the woman who was killed instead of me - guilty and depressed and just hating myself. When it went too far and I told - I did it because I thought it would save the three of us. I know this is no consolation to you at all, but I really hoped that by putting all the blame on myself - it would make things better. For all of us. I'm not trying to make excuses or justify what I did to you -- I just wanted you to know what I was thinking when I did it."

He let himself digest all of this. For so long, he had considered her the "enemy." The one who sold them out to Gee. Sacrificed him for her own good. Even though, since last night, the anger and resentment toward her had cooled and shifted, it was still a lot to take in.

"I didn't know all that," he said finally. "I think what also happened was the three of us responded to what happened in three very different ways and we assumed the worst about the other two."

"We did," she said. "When we should have been looking out for each other."

"We were all pretty messed up then, weren't we?"

She sighed. "I still feel like I am. I'm still paranoid and depressed, but I hide it very well. No one at work would ever guess - my partner or anyone. You know everyone at work comes to me for advice?"

He hadn't known that. "What kind of advice?"

"Anything and everything. It's gotten kind of ridiculous. I mean here I am feeling like I'm this close to crumbling and somehow word's spread that I'm this sage and all of a sudden I'm Dear Abby. Ballard asked me for job advice last week. She wants to know about possibly transferring departments."

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her to listen to her heart. Something cliché and awful like that. I don't even really remember. But who am I to give anyone job advice? Did you know that if you've been rotated more than twice in a year you've been 'Stivers-ed?' Boy was I flattered when I overheard that."

"Yeah, I kind of knew that," he admitted. He had been confused at first hearing some jerk in robbery say that awhile ago, but remembered Stivers' quick succession of departments - narcotics, sex crimes, robbery and then homicide - in such a short time. He remembered hoping she would never get wind of that.

"You know what the funniest thing is though? People ask me for relationship advice all the time. Tim, Falsone, Ballard…. That's even funnier than me giving job advice." She laughed bitterly. "I have such a healthy love life after all. It's a toss up of who hates me more, the guy I just slept with or the guy who I…" She stopped suddenly, a horrified look on her face.

"What?" he asked. Now he was really curious.

"I can't," she said. "I went way too far. You don't need to hear it."

But after all that - how could he not persist. "Tell me."

"Fine," she said, her voice completely flat. "I don't know who hates me more: the guy I just slept with or the guy who I'm in love with."

He lay back down. It took him a second to figure out what she was talking about. Who she was talking about. "You're in love with Meldrick," he said, trying to keep his voice neutral. He hadn't known that. Part of him wished he still didn't know that.

She didn't answer. She grabbed the remote from the small table near her bed and turned on the television, changing channels until she found local news. A few minutes after some national segments, the perky newscaster came on, reporting on what they had learned last night, saying they would have more on the story after commercials, including an interview with one of the detectives who used to be on Al Giardello's shift when he was lieutenant.

"Who are they going to interview?" he asked, her admission still on his mind. "Five bucks it's Falsone. Weasel loves the attention."

"Sheppard," she said. "Any chance to get the former beauty queen turned detective on TV. And you're on."

She was right. When the news came back on, the newscaster was standing with Sheppard, red-eyed, tired looking. but still glamorous.

"Sheppard told me that you two were friends. She told everyone that. I think she was hoping that the fact that she knew you would give her some clout in the squadroom."

He laughed. Why would anyone brag about knowing him? Especially to that crowd. "We weren't friends really. Acquaintances. She was more a friend of a friend. I think a friend of mine dated her."

"Wow," she said. "People would be so jealous of your friend. Everyone at work thinks she's gorgeous."

"Really?" he asked. "She's definitely not ugly, but I always thought she was kind of masculine looking. Not my type at all."

She looked shocked. "That's the very unpopular opinion. Everyone drooled over her. Falsone, Bayliss." She lowered her voice. "Meldrick."

"Yeah, well, Meldrick and I have very different tastes in women."

She laughed sadly. "Yeah. No kidding."

"Listen, Terri, I wanted to apologize for what I said to you before. About making the crack about changing your hair so he would pay attention to you." Knowing what he did now, about her being in love with Lewis, made his comment especially cruel.

"It's okay," she said. "You weren't that far off. I just wanted to try something different. It wasn't just for him. But if he had said anything, if anyone had said anything, that would have been an added benefit." She shook her head. "I'm so pathetic, Mike. I've never been like this before. I think these last few years just took its toll on me and it's showing in odd ways."

She continued. "But I want you to know…what we did last night and this morning has nothing to do with him. I swear."

"Okay…" It hadn't even crossed his mind before. Should it have?

"It didn't." Her voice was firm, needing to convince him. "I wasn't thinking of him at all. You want to know what I was thinking about? I was thinking about you and when we went out to dinner that one time. How nice you were to me then. What you said to me about me deserving better… that's one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me."

"It was true though. That guy was such an ass."

"Sir Michael."

Her nickname for him. He had loved it when she had first used it; it made him feel so chivalrous.

Remembering now how he grabbed her months ago only made the nickname seem like it was mocking him.

She had apologized so many times to him in the last two days; he needed to apologize for something else as well. "I'm so sorry about grabbing you outside the courthouse. I was so angry at you, but there's no excuse for being rough with you."

She nodded. "Well, what do we do now?"

"Get something to eat," he said. He knew that wasn't what she meant, but he was suddenly starving.

"Okay," she said getting out of bed. "I'm going to take a shower. You can take one after if you want. Then we can go out. I'm hungry too." She didn't seem to mind not getting a more serious answer to her question.

"Okay," he said. He turned off the television. "Want some company?" he asked hopefully. "I can wash your back."

She watched him for a second, tempted, debating. Finally she shook her head, smiling a little. "Next time." She smiled again and headed for the bathroom.

He knew rationally that the smart thing would be to end things there. It would be smart for both of them.

They still had to deal with the death of their boss.

They still had to work through whatever issues they had with each other - guilt, trust, etc.

And there was the little thing about her being in love with Lewis.

But he decided to stick his head in the sand a little longer. Next time, she had said.

He decided to believe her.


End file.
